


The Pink and Orange Scrunchie

by larselphie



Category: RuPaul's Drag Race RPF
Genre: F/F, I wrote 'scrunchie' like a million times, Katya is sexy af, Lesbian AU, Nothing too explicit, Trixie is useless, as always, how classic, katya sells homemade scrunchies, kim is trixie's friend
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-12
Updated: 2020-05-12
Packaged: 2021-03-02 21:01:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,896
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24143260
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/larselphie/pseuds/larselphie
Summary: Katya sells homemade scrunchie and Trixie wouldn’t be Trixie if she didn’t want to buy the pretty pink one.“Relax, Barbie. If it makes you feel any better, this is exactly how I pictured you.”“What do you mean?” Trixie asked.“Well, hundreds of texts, panic the moment I don’t text you back, blonde hair, pink clothes, heavy make-up...”
Relationships: Trixie Mattel/Katya Zamolodchikova
Comments: 10
Kudos: 53





	The Pink and Orange Scrunchie

This is my first Trixya fic, be kind. Also, English is not my first language, be kinder. Comments are very much appreciated :)

**The Pink and Orange Scrunchie**

Trixie quickly walked to the bus stop opposite her building. The sun was shining upon her head but if she inhaled deeply enough she could make out the smell of rain still lingering in the air from the night before. She eyed the watch on her wrist and thanked her odds she was perfectly on time. Like every day, she had spent a good amount of time improving every line of the makeup on her face, and like every day she had to rush out of the apartment if she wanted to catch the 9:23 bus. Her boss usually came in later than her, but still, Trixie really wanted to have the store open by 10.

Trixie quickly glanced at her watch. 9:20 a.m. She calculated in her head: 3 minutes until the bus arrived, 17 minutes’ drive to the city center, 4 minutes to walk to the clothes store she worked at, 5 minutes to get a warm coffee, 3 minutes to get changed into some more comfortable shoes, 2 minutes to pee and 4 minutes to finish her coffee and relax before opening to the public. If she had to be honest, she fairly enjoyed the early shift. The clients were nicer and way quieter than in the late afternoon. 

Looking at the bus approaching in the distance, Trixie sighed. She took deep pleasure in travelling by bus, rather than taking the underground, mainly because the view was way better. Sitting close by the big windows, Trixie would sometimes close her eyes and she would let her mind take her back to a time where it was her mother who drove her places. Trixie had always enjoyed sitting quietly in the back seat, her eyes following either the white clouds or the drops of rain on the glass. Mostly, Trixie enjoyed watching people. 

As the bus came nearer, a gust of wind hit her face strongly, reminding her that the choice of wearing a light flowery dress and her favorite pink jacket was maybe not the best for such unstable spring weather. She took a step back and took repair underneath the bus shelter.  
Trixie let her eyes wonder absentmindedly over the graffiti and many sharpie declarations left on the glass wall of the bus shelter, before her attention was caught by a piece of paper. It was a white sheet casually taped to the side of the glass, with red and black words printed on it. The font was messy and certainly not something Trixie would have chosen herself. The text was accompanied by two small colorful pictures at the bottom of the paper. Reading through the message, Trixie recognized the person was selling homemade scrunchies and some questionable patchwork bandanas. The author also noted at the end of the ad that they were willing to personalize any creation with the pattern or color of choice. Finally, right underneath two pictures that showed a bunch of black and white scrunchies and some rainbow patchwork bandanas, were a name and a phone number.  
Captured by one pink and orange scrunchie, Trixie got her phone out of her pocket and quickly typed out the number, seconds before the bus stopped in front of her and she jumped in. 

The contact “Scrunchie” was staring at her since a good ten minutes when the bus abruptly stopped at a traffic light. Trixie calculated in her head how much money she had left for clothes shopping this month. Being a university student and working as a part-time shop assistant did not make her life easy. Every month was a challenge, every single cent of her paycheck was neatly calculated and every move was planned in the pink notebook she always took with her. When the bus slowly started moving again, Trixie’s phone wiggled in her hands, threatening to fall down. She grasped it tight and impulsively decided that 8$ for a homemade scrunchie was not a bad deal. Support your local artist, right? Besides, her long blonde hair looked gorgeous with pink flowy bows in it. She opened a message and texted “Scrunchie”.

 **Trixie:** Hello, I read your ad at the bus stop and I am really in love with that pink and orange scrunchie. 

Trixie locked her phone and threw it in her bag. The recorded voice in the bus speaker announced her stop and she gingerly made her way to the exit, trying to keep her balance in the last turn of the ride. She was ready to start the day. 

It was almost nine p.m. when Trixie finally closed the door of her apartment behind her back. After her shift she had spent some time at the library with her closest friend Kim, trying to study for upcoming exams but mostly ending up gossiping about the professors they shared. She took her shoes off, hung the jeans jacket to the wall and made her way to the kitchen. Her small apartment needed a nice cleaning, but Trixie had no intention of touching a mop before the end of the week. And it was only Wednesday. She eyed the floor in the tiny space between the couch and the kitchen table and sighed. Moving to stand in front of the fridge she undid some buttons in the front of her dress, while contemplating what she could have for dinner that was fast and not too caloric. She picked out some salad, a small box of cheese and butter, diet be damned. You only live once, right? She made herself a sandwich filled with a lot of salad and not too much cheese, put the unused butter in the fridge (because yes, you only live once but Trixie really wanted to live skinny) and went to get more comfortable shorts and shirt. As she was about to sit on the couch with her sandwich, her phone buzzed. 

**Scrunchie:** Hello there, apologies for the delay, I was very busy. Yes, the scrunchie. I don’t really like that combination of colors, but I felt inspired and I thought it would look great on somebody that was not me. 

Trixie smiled slightly at the message, waiting for “Scrunchie” to type more. 

**Scrunchie:** I guess if you want it you could pick it up? Or I can mail it to you? I hung ads everywhere, you have to help me out here

 **Trixie:** I live close to the bus stop where the big car wash is... 

**Trixie:** Do you know the one? 

**Trixie:** The building with the glass roof

Usually Trixie would be very careful giving her address out but since she lived in 16-stories building with 4 apartments each floor, she felt quite safe. This is what she loved most of living in a big city. She could disappear so easily, be a ghost among thousands of people. 

**Scrunchie:** Oh, cool! I live down the street, I could actually drop it off. When do you have time?

 **Trixie:** Uhm 

**Trixie:** I think tomorrow late? 

**Trixie:** I could be home around 19, if that fits you

 **Scrunchie:** You really are one of those people, uh?

Trixie looked at the message, confused. 

**Trixie:** What do you mean? 

**Scrunchie:** You send like 6 messages instead of one long one 

Trixie chuckled and took a bite of her sandwich, folding her legs under her body and getting more comfortable on the couch. 

**Trixie:** I am sorry

 **Trixie:** I don’t think about it

 **Trixie:** Oh there I did it again 

**Trixie:** Am I disturbing you? Why does it bother you so much?

As she waited for an answer, Trixie finished her sandwich and dipped her hand in the bowl strategically placed on a tiny table behind the sofa, fishing out a small chocolate egg. She unwrapped it and plopped in her mouth, sucking it until it disappeared in her mouth, leaving the faint taste of dark chocolate. As she made her way to the bathroom to shower and get ready for bed, Trixie could not help but wonder why “Scrunchie” had disappeared so suddenly. Was she so annoying with her texting? Also, how unprofessional of a business person to just disappear in the middle of a sale. 

**Trixie:** Do you think that like 

**Trixie:** My way of texting 

**Trixie:** Is annoying?

She typed out to her friend Kim before entering the shower. The answer came pretty quickly and Trixie thought about it the whole time until she finally turned off the light and let sleep carry her away. 

**Kim:** Not at all  


**Kim:** How would you feel  


**Kim:** If every conversation we had  


**Kim:** Would go like this  


**Kim:** And your phone would  


**Kim:** Ring  


**Kim:** Every  


**Kim:** Fucking  


**Kim:** Time  


**Kim:** You get a message?  


**Kim:** Go to sleep you whore. If they don’t love your texting they’re not gonna love your face either. 

Just as Trixie was about to open the store the next day, her phone buzzed in her pocket. She took a quick look at it, and a small smile opened on her face. 

**Scrunchie:** 19 at the bus stop then. Please bring 8$ cash for the scrunchie. 

To say that Trixie did not spend her morning questioning herself and her way of texting, typing out various apologies to send to Scrunchie and then deleting would be a lie. She almost made peace with the fact that she would not possess that pretty homemade pink and orange scrunchie that would go so well with at least 5 of her usual outfits. Now, reading the message on her phone, Trixie knew she would spend the rest of the day fantasizing about even more outfits combination. 

Everything in her life was planned. Trixie knew how long it took her from one place to the other and always calculated strategically, so that most of the times she had time to spare, too. It’s not that she had always been so punctual. There was a time in her past, when she would be the one arriving at least 30 minutes later to any kind of appointment. But that was in the past. Trixie didn’t like the past. Didn’t like to talk about it, didn’t like to think about it. So she became a new person. A punctual person. But obviously, somebody really didn’t want her to have her scrunchie. The bus was running 10 minutes late and Trixie knew she would never be at the bus stop in front of her building within the next 5 minutes. She was thinking about what to text “Scrunchie” to make them wait for her, when she saw the small strawberry stand near the station. She usually bought strawberries every evening in summertime, and she was sure they were not ready, but still, she approached the stand and eyed the baskets of fruit. They looked red and delicious and the lady at the stand offered her one to taste. Trixie made up her mind quickly, getting one basket for herlself, and a second one. 

**Trixie:** I am going to be so late and I am so so sorry but if you wait for me I promise it will be worth it. I hope you like strawberries. 

She sent the message to Scrunchie and hoped that whoever that person was, they really needed 8 bucks to survive. 

As she stepped out of the bus, the first thing Trixie noticed was the smell of smoke. She hated smokers, and hated whenever somebody smoked underneath the bus shelter. She often fantasized about screaming at them, shooing them away to where there was nobody they could intoxicate with their bad habit. The smell was quickly connected to a figure leaning towards the glass wall of the shelter. Trixie looked at the short blonde hair and uneven bangs that hid intense blue eyes and sighed as a thought formed in her head. Scrunchie didn’t wait for her. Trixie didn’t have the time to let the disappointment sink in before the blonde smoker spoke to her.  
“I really like strawberries, thank you.”

The girl smiled at Trixie, revealing a set of perfect white teeth. Trixie had to blink her eyes a couple of time. Was this? No. Could this be? Impossible. This was definitely not how Trixie had imagined Scrunchie. The white blonde messy hair, the smokey eyes, the red lipstick, the leather jacket, the black ripped jeans. Everything was too much for Trixie’s little brain to process. And then, there was the cigarette butt that Scrunchie ( _Scrunchie_ ) threw on the sidewalk before slowly approaching Trixie. 

“What, did you expect some magic fairy to deliver you enchanted pieces of clothing?” Scrunchie spit out, a challenging look on her face. Trixie’s expression immediately switched from surprised to extremely mortified and she felt her cheeks take fire.  
“No, no, I mean, kinda? No that’s not what I meant, I…” She mumbled, sure her face was bright red by now.  
“Relax, Barbie. If it makes you feel any better, this is exactly how I pictured you.” Scrunchie smiled brightly, hitting Trixie with her perfect teeth again.  
“What do you mean?” Trixie asked.  
“Well, hundreds of texts, panic the moment I don’t text you back, blonde hair, pink clothes, heavy make-up.” Scrunchie looked at Trixie and Trixie felt... checked out? Was this woman checking her out? While, at the same time, insulting her? Once again, Trixie had to acknowledge the poor size of her brain.

“I did not panic because you did not text me back.” Was the first thing that came to Trixie’s mind.  
“Oh, you mean you did not run to your best friend last night crying because I insulted your way of texting?”  
Trixie wanted to punch that smirk from Scrunchie’s face.  
“Whatever, asshole. Now can I get my scrunchie or what?” She could see the expression shift on Scrunchie’s face and Trixie had to admit, it felt good to surprise this girl back. Trixie might have looked like a Barbie, but that was only the outside of the book. 

Scrunchie broke down in a loud laughter that left Trixie even more confused than before. What was happening? She was well aware of her surroundings, the cars loud on the street next to them and the sun slowly making his way to the other side of the globe, but all Trixie could see was the way Scrunchie’s eye wrinkled in her laugh, how her mouth stayed wide open and her arm hugged her belly, trying to sustain her small body. Trixie wanted to hold that body. Wait, where did that thought come from? She didn’t like smokers. She didn’t like red, or black. Still, looking at this stranger laughing out loud for whatever reason, she felt like laughing with her.  
“Here.” Scrunchie slipped a hand in the pocket of her leather jacket and a pretty pink and orange scrunchie appeared in front of Trixie. 

“Oh, than…” Trixie took the scrunchie in her hands and let her fingers caress the soft fabric for a moment, before she took her purse out of her bag and stared counting bills.  
“No, I don’t want it. I decided this will be a present. Can I get the strawberries, though?” Scrunchie asked, pointing at the plastic bag that was still hanging from Trixie’s arm.  
Trixie looked overwhelmed, not sure if she should put the purse away yet. Was Scrunchie being serious? Did she really not want the money?  
“Come on princess, I have a business to run.” Scrunchie insisted, looking at the strawberry bag. Trixie slowly handed her the bag, and Scrunchie took out a basket full of perfect strawberries. She hooked the plastic bag back to Trixie’s arm and plopped one fruit in her mouth, throwing the stem to the side of the street. 

Trixie stood still, eyes on Scrunchie’s mouth. She still had her purse on one hand, the pink and orange scrunchie in the other, the strawberries plastic bag hanging from one arm and her handbag hanging from the other. She could not tear her eyes off the girl standing before her eyes. Trixie was positive, Scrunchie eating a strawberry in a leather jacket and red lipstick was the hottest thing she had ever seen. She felt her cheeks blush again.  
“Alright, I gotta go. Why don’t you close your mouth Barbie?” Scrunchie smiled at her again, and Trixie felt her knees give up. 

“Uhm, are you sure you don’t want…” She tried asking again, hinting at her purse.  
“Nah, nobody would have ever bought that piece, I’m glad you took it from me.” Scrunchie started walking backwards, away from the bus shelter.  
“Besides” she continued “this way you’ll owe me one.” The blonde girl smiled one last time, before plopping a second strawberry in her mouth and turning away.  
Trixie stood under the bus shelter for a good ten minutes after Scrunchie disappeared, her purse still in her hands. When she got back to her senses, the packed the purse away and made her way to her building. She waited until she was safe in her apartment, back pushed to the door, before she brought the pink and orange scrunchie to her face. She inhaled deeply. Smoke and a cloud of perfume that made Trixie’s knees immediately clench. 

Maybe she did not hate smokers after all.


End file.
